Chapter 21
Kitty was ecstatic about finally leaving her bedchamber after being confined for an entire week. Although she had enjoyed the company of Georgiana and Lizzy, she had grown bored of the same four walls. The day before she had been moved to the chair near a window without much pain. That success induced Mr. Jones to give his approval for her to be moved to a room below for some of the day.
"If your ankle begins to increase in swelling or pain, you must immediately elevate it," he cautioned her. "Do not attempt to put any weight on it, and I would recommend using a footstool or settee to keep the joint elevated while downstairs."
Kitty assured him that she would follow all of his edicts. Along with Lizzy's and Georgiana's promises to take care of Kitty and not allow her to attempt to walk, Mr. Jones left with the promise to call the day after her sojourn below stairs to see how the endeavor affected her ankle.
As Lizzy returned from her encounter with Mr. Darcy, her distraction over his apologies and the subsequent conversation went unnoticed by Kitty in her excitement to leave the bedroom.
"Lizzy, why must you dawdle?" Kitty demanded impatiently as she bounced on the bed.
Lizzy shook her head and smiled at her sister. "Perhaps if you quit interrupting me, I would be able to prepare more quickly," she teased.
Finally, Lizzy ablutions were completed, and she rang for a maid to fetch a few manservants to carry Kitty down the stairs. To their surprise, the next knock on the door was Georgiana with Colonel Fitzwilliam.
"My cousin has offered to carry Kitty down the stairs," Georgiana informed them. "His time in the military has given him a surety of foot that many manservants do not have."
Kitty thanked him graciously, and the entire party went down the stairs. Colonel Fitzwilliam carefully and slowly carried Kitty down each step, taking care to not jostle her ankle. When they at last reached the parlor, they were greeted by a light applause from Bingley, his sisters, and Darcy.
"We are very glad to have you join us, Miss Catherine," Bingley told her. "My dear wife has been eager to have your companionship in another room."
He crossed to Georgiana and kissed her hand lovingly. She blushed and smiled at him, then turned her attention to the newcomers. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had a whispered conversation on the settee they were sharing, while Mr. Hurst dozed on a sofa. Mr. Darcy sat at the writing desk, and Miss Bingley stood to join him.
"What do you do so secretly, sir?" she asked him coyly.
"It is no secret; I am writing to my cousin," he replied without looking up from the letter.
"Please give the cranky old man my regards," said Colonel Fitzwilliam cheerfully. At Kitty's surprised look, he added, "My elder brother by several years has always been a bit formal."
"This letter is not to the viscount," Darcy responded.
"You're writing to Anne?" Georgiana asked in surprise.
"Yes, to discuss our visit to Rosings in the spring," Mr. Darcy responded.
"Lady Catherine's daughter?" inquired Kitty, much to Lizzy's relief. She was still somewhat discomposed over her tete-a-tete with Darcy earlier in the day and did not feel equipped to speak to him with equanimity.
Mr. Darcy looked up from his paper and eyed Kitty, who blushed under his scrutiny. "You are acquainted with my aunt?"
Georgiana laughed and answered for her friend, "Their sister Mary is engaged to Mr. Collins. You remember," she added when she saw his confusion, "the new rector at the Hunsford parish."
Darcy raised his eyebrows slightly, and Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled slightly. "He is a difficult man to forget," the colonel remarked. "Hunsford is quite a distance; how did your sister come to meet him?"
"He is the heir to our father's estate," Lizzy answered, finally finding her tongue.
"What a terrible thing an entail is!" cried Miss Bingley, somewhat disdainfully. "Charles, when you purchase your estate, you must not allow it to be entailed."
Darcy shook his head in disagreement. "While entailing an estate away from the female line is a somewhat archaic notion," he said, "an entail does protect an inheritance from being gambled away or sold off by a dissolute or indolent master."
Miss Bingley immediately agreed with his opinion, which caused him to smile slightly.
"Is there an entail on Rosings?" Kitty asked curiously.
"Not entirely," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Anne's oldest son will inherit, or if she only has daughters, the first of her daughters who bears a son will. If there are no male descendants in Anne's line, then the estate will devolve to the de Bourgh cousins."
"But Anne is too sickly to bear a child!" exclaimed Georgiana, then blushed in embarrassment as the single females in the group delicately averted their eyes.
"I believe she could adopt a child," Mr. Darcy told her kindly, "although she must be married for that child to inherit."
"That seems to be an odd sort of way to inherit," Lizzy remarked.
"Sir Lewis's father had some unique notions about birth and education," Colonel Fitzwilliam informed her.
"What sort of place is Rosings?" Kitty inquired, and she and Colonel Fitzwilliam spent the better part of an hour discussing the property.
As the two conversed with Mrs. Hurst absently listening, Miss Bingley asked Georgiana more about Anne de Bourgh: "Is she very accomplished?"
"It is amazing to me," interjected Bingley, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."
"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?" Miss Bingley declared in astonishment.
"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."
"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," said Darcy, "has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."
"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley.
"Then," observed Lizzy, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."
"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it," he responded.
"Oh! certainly," cried Miss Bingley, "no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."
"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading," and his eyes flicked towards the book Lizzy held in her lap.
Lizzy laughingly said, "I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."
"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?" Mr. Darcy asked with severity, though she thought she spied a twinkle in his eye.
"I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united," Lizzy retorted with a smile softening her reply.
Miss Bingley cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt. "Perhaps not in your circle, Miss Eliza," she said condescendingly, "but I assure you, there are many in our circle who match that description."
"I see," Lizzy replied with a smile at the contradiction of the lady's words. "Perhaps you could tell me, Mr. Darcy, which books a truly accomplished woman should be reading?"
This sparked a lively discussion between Lizzy and the gentleman. Lizzy was surprised to discover that they had read many of the same books, and with the same feelings.
Growing tired of listening to a conversation in which she could play no part, as she was not a great reader, Miss Bingley attempted to turn the subject. Before she could do so successfully, however, the housekeeper entered with a letter for Georgiana.
She looked at the envelope, puzzled, and said, "It is from Oakley. I wonder why he could be writing to me?"
All eyes were on her, and she blushed slightly at being the focus of so much attention. "Would you mind very much if I read my letter now? I confess I am intrigued; usually he corresponds with my brother or his. I cannot remember the last time he wrote to me directly."
After receiving assurances that no one would take offense, she opened the letter and read it. "Charles," she said, interrupting the silence that naturally occurred as she read, "my cousin writes to beg an invitation to join us here at Netherfield in a fortnight. Would that be acceptable?"
Miss Bingley gasped slightly in shock. "Of course Charles would be happy to invite a viscount to his estate!"
Georgiana looked uncomfortable at this appropriation of the duties she and Charles held. Mr. Bingley said in an uncharacteristically stern voice, "Georgiana, as mistress of this house, you are welcome to invite anyone you desire, especially a family member."
Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered something to Kitty, who burst into giggles. At Georgiana's hurt expression, he repeated in a louder voice: "You may regret that if she decides to invite our aunt, Lady Catherine."
Darcy rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Georgiana smiled in relief. "Thank you, Charles," the young lady said, turning to her husband, "I will write him immediately and extend the invitation."
"Will he be bringing his sons?" asked the Colonel.
"Bring children to a house party?" Miss Bingley interjected incredulously. "Surely someone of his position has sufficient staff to tend to them."
"Certainly, he does," Colonel Fitzwilliam said mildly but with steel in his gaze, "but he prefers to keep his children with him, no matter where he travels."
"He is a devoted father, then," Kitty said with warmth in her voice.
"As was our mother," said the colonel as he looked at Kitty with fondness.
"My aunt was all that was good and kind," added Darcy, "and she ensured her children were always with her, no matter where she took up residence."
Colonel Fitzwilliam again whispered to Kitty, who nodded solemnly. She saw Lizzy's sharp gaze upon her and the colonel, and she gave her elder sister an innocent smile.
Kitty and I will need to have a conversation this evening¸ Lizzy thought with some concern. She looked around the room and saw Darcy looking at Kitty and Colonel as well, his brow furrowed. Sensing her eyes on him, he turned his gaze towards her. Their eyes locked and held for several moments before Miss Bingley's shrill voice washed over them, giving Georgiana advice on how to host a viscount.
"Thank you, Caroline," Bingley interrupted firmly, "but as my wife is the granddaughter of an earl, I trust she was raised with an education that included how to be mistress of a house party that includes members of the Peerage."
"Indeed," Darcy added, "I spared no expense on her education. Although she may have lowered in status by marrying Bingley – no offense, my friend – she is quite capable of hosting her cousin, having been much in company since she was a child."
Georgiana's countenance, which had dimmed under Miss Bingley's onslaught of advice, brightened, and she bestowed a heartfelt smile on her husband for his unanticipated defense. In the past, he had often allowed her to handle his sisters. I think I will enjoy this aspect of courting, she thought.
Miss Bingley's face grew red, and she began to whisper furiously to her sister, not stopping her quiet diatribe until the party was called to dress for dinner.
The next few days at Netherfield followed a similar pattern. Lizzy would awaken early in the morning and go for a walk. She would always encounter Mr. Darcy on a path, and the two would converse as he escorted her for the remainder of her exercise. After refreshing herself, Lizzy would assist Kitty in making preparations to join the party downstairs.
Colonel Fitzwilliam insisted on carrying Kitty down to the parlor each morning, where he would gently set her on one chair of a matching set, and he would take the other. The two would converse privately, but openly. Lizzy attempted to speak with Kitty about these tete-a-tetes, but Kitty insisted they were merely speaking about trivialities, such as the Colonel's plans for the regiment when they came to Meryton in a fortnight.
Miss Bingley continued to demand Mr. Darcy's attentions, with the help of Mrs. Hurst. Mr. Hurst would frequently go hunting, or he would doze on a couch. Lizzy would read or engage in conversation with Mr. Bingley, who was often without his wife while she made preparations for the viscount's arrival. When Georgiana was present, however, Bingley would devote his entire focus to her amusement and comfort.
The routine was only interrupted on day that Mrs. Bennet called to check on the wellbeing of her daughter. Had she found Kitty in any apparent danger of her ankle not healing, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her injury was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield.
She would not listen, therefore, to her daughter's proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. "No," declared Mr. Jones, "she still must wait several more days. The jostling of the carriage before all swelling has gone down could cause permanent injury."
Georgiana invited the matron to tea in the sitting room. Bingley met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Kitty worse than she expected.
"Indeed I have, sir," was her answer. "Her ankle is a great deal too swollen to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."
"Removed!" cried Bingley. "It must not be thought of. My wife, I am sure, will not hear of her removal."
"You may depend upon it, Madam," said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, "that Miss Catherine will receive every possible attention while she remains with us."
"Indeed," Georgiana said with a dark look at Miss Bingley, "as mistress of this house, I will do all in my power to keep Miss Catherine comfortable."
Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.
"I am sure," she added, "if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is in a great deal of pain, indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her."
"You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley," the lady continued without pausing for breath, "and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease."
"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied he; "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here."
"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Elizabeth with a smile.
"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning towards her.
"Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly," she said, winking at Georgiana.
"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful."
"That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."
"Lizzy," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."
"I did not know before," continued Bingley immediately, "that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."
"Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage," Lizzy responded.
"The country," said Darcy, "can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighborhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."
Lizzy smiled at his rejoinder, remembering he had said something similar that morning on their walk. "But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever."
"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighborhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town."
Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph. Lizzy blushed in embarrassment at Darcy's incivility towards her mother and her mother's lack of decorum.
"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?"
"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."
"Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," looking at Darcy, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."
"Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken," said Elizabeth, interjected, noting Georgiana's pale face. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true."
"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighborhood, I believe there are few neighborhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families."
Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate and directed her eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.
"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."
"Did Charlotte's fiancé attend as well?"
"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain—but then she is our particular friend."
"She seems a very pleasant young woman," Georgiana added.
"Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man here at Netherfield so much in love with her and wanted to make her an offer. He was only a steward, however, and about to move far north. She went to London, though, but not before he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were."
"And so ended his affection," said Elizabeth quickly in an effort to change the subject. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"
"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Darcy.
"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away," Lizzy remarked, smilingly winningly at Darcy.
Darcy could only smile in return; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Kitty with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy.
Mr. Bingley and his wife were both unaffectedly civil in their answers, and Mr. Bingley forced his younger sister to be civil also and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage.
Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief at her mother's departure, and the household resumed what had become its accustomed routine before Mrs. Bennet's intrusion.
So the days passed until Mr. Jones arrived and deemed Kitty well enough to return to Longbourn. It was determined that she would leave the next morning. The night before their departure passed uneventfully, and soon the entire party of Netherfield bid farewell to their guests.
As the carriage drove from sight, Miss Bingley sighed in relief. "What a pleasure it is to have one's house to oneself."
"Really?" Bingley said, intrigued. "Is that a hint that I should set you up with a house in town and a companion?"
"Charles!" she exclaimed in protest as the rest of the group hid their amusement.
"Come," Georgiana said, ushering everyone inside, "we have much to do before Oakley and the militia arrive."